


Goldilocks & The Brooklyn Badass

by UrsulaAngstrom



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-13 08:41:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5702152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UrsulaAngstrom/pseuds/UrsulaAngstrom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lonesome lovers reunited after Starsky has to drive to a distant city to testify against a criminal.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I originally shared this story under the pen name Starskenopolous in March of April of 2004.  I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Goldilocks & The Brooklyn Badass

Goldilocks & The Brooklyn Badass

by Ursula Angstrom

 

Another one like that and I'm going to swallow my face, Starsky thought, yawning again as he exited the freeway.

"Almost home," Starsky murmured eight miles later as he made the last turn that would take him back to the treehouse.

They'd only been apart for three days, but Starsky felt like he hadn't seen Hutch for three weeks! McCaffrey had been granted a change of venue so Starsky had to drive to Fresno to testify against the rich alcoholic who'd been charged with vehicular homicide. Starsky had arrested McCaffrey for DUI twice when he was a patrolman, so he was subpoenaed along with eight other cops from three different states to testify against the unrepentant habitual offender.

For once McCaffrey's money had not bought him immunity from prosecution via an out-of-court settlement with the victim's family.

Victoria Wainwright refused to be bought, bribed, threatened or coerced; so there was a good chance Reginald McCaffrey would finally do some serious time. Starsky hoped so. The man was a menace. Vincent Wainwright wasn't the first person McCaffrey killed, but with luck he'd be the last.

The sun was coming up behind his house when Starsky slid across the front seat of the Torino and grabbed his mail out of the box next to the end of his driveway. 

The rain clouds had disappeared and the birds were warbling happily as sunshine gilded the wet leaves and grass.

Man, it's going to be a beautiful day! Starsky thought, smiling at the sunrise as he anticipated a snack, a shower, a nap, and his reunion with Hutch.

Wondering if the robin's eggs had hatched yet, Starsky looked for the nest in the tree that grew through the hole in his second-floor deck. The nest was harder to see because there were more leaves on the tree today, but the bowl of twigs was still visible; a happy harbinger of Spring.

Yawning again as he retrieved the remote control for the garage from the glove compartment, Starsky depressed the brown button and tossed the remote back into its hiding place.

As he sat upright, Starsky saw the COPS NEED LOVE TOO bumper sticker on the back bumper of Hutch's latest jalopy. Beige Embarrassment Number Four was parked in the garage next to his new motorcycle.

Delighted by the unexpected surprise, Starsky eagerly parked the Torino next to Hutch's dilapidated LTD, fatigue banished as soon as he realized his lonesome lover was upstairs.

Bounding up the inside steps two at a time, it took Starsky just a few seconds to get from his garage to his kitchen. If it had been later in the morning he would have called out to Hutch as soon as he burst in the door, but the hood of the LTD was room temperature when he touched it so that meant it had been parked in his garage for hours.

One look at the mess in his kitchen and living room told Starsky all he needed to know about how long Hutch had been here and why.

Their last phone conversation had taken place just after midnight. When Starsky called Venice Place, Hutch was in the process of trying to distract himself with gardening tasks, but the greenhouse needed more attention than Hutch could give it when he was grumpy.

Hutch was restless and irritable because he still had the remnants of a nasty head cold and taking decongestants with pseudoephedrine exacerbated his chronic insomnia. Lonesome, bored and agitated, Hutch had obviously given up on the greenhouse and decided to seek solace in the only other place he truly felt at home. That's why there was a bowl of half-finished oatmeal congealing on Starsky's kitchen counter and a pile of newspapers and magazines strewn around the fan backed wicker chair in his living room.

7-Up cans and an open tube of saltine crackers were in front of the TV along with a blanket and a nest of scattered floor pillows that stretched all the way back to the couch.

The TV was off but the stereo was on. Music from Hutch's favorite FM station emanated from the speakers at low volume and the lingering aroma of sandalwood incense welcomed Starsky home with the knowledge that he'd been very much missed.

Tangled in his electric blue sheets Hutch looked like a diamond sparkling in a sea of melted sapphires. 

Sweaty and fretful, the handsome blond twitched and scowled; mumbling when he thrashed because he was having a bad dream. Distressed because Hutch was so agitated, Starsky intervened as soon as Hutch cringed.

Sitting down on the side of his bed, Starsky gently raked his fingers through Hutch's luminous blond hair. The gossamer fine strands were damp with sweat that made the ends curl and cling to his fingers like wet silk thread.

Comforted by the soothing caress, Hutch quit scowling as he nuzzled the pillow beneath his cheek and desperately clung to the one in his arms.

"Starsky…" Hutch murmured plaintively.

"I'm right here, Hutch." Starsky crooned, marveling at the expressions that kalidescoped over his partner's expressive face as he slept.

"No you're not," Hutch grumbled, talking in his sleep. "I'm here. You're in Fresno."

"No I'm not," Starsky murmured. "I'm here. I'm home," Starsky told his sullen partner, gently kissing his Viking prince until the dreaming man awoke.

Smiling like a sunrise, Hutch opened his eyes and said his name like it was a benediction.

"Starsky!"

Before he could reply, the fingers of Hutch's left hand tangled in his curls as the fingers of Ken's right hand tenderly caressed his face. Hutch kissed the smile right off Dave’s face when he pulled his partner down into a sweet, wondrous kiss that fused that smile into Starsky's soul with molten lust.

Starsky ended up in the middle of his warm comfy bed fully clothed. It was a kinky delight being snuggled by his very own--and very naked--Norwegian sun god.

"When did you get home?" Hutch purred, stretching like a big horny mountain lion as he pulled Starsky close and wrapped his lean hard body around his friend possessively.

"A little while ago," Starsky murmured as he nibbled on Hutch's neck.

Giggling lasciviously, Hutch tossed his head like a frisky stallion because Starsky knew just how to tickle and taunt him at the same time. Parts of Hutch's neck were very ticklish and certain spots were erogenous zones that made Hutch feel like he was melting when Starsky swirled his tongue against those sensitive areas.

"I didn't hear you come in," Hutch rambled.

"You were asleep."

"Finally!" Hutch sighed, holding Starsky close again like he was a human teddy bear.

"Finally?"

Starsky loved to cuddle and be cuddled, but he was still fully dressed and not comfortable yet.

Hutch didn't seem to care. His hands were roaming everywhere!

"I couldn't sleep without you next to me, Starsk. It made me feel bereft; so I came here."

"Bereft?"

"Forlorn."

"Oh…"

Starsky knew what the word bereft meant, but he couldn't resist the urge to tease Hutch.

"No one stole your teddy bear, Goldilocks. I'm right here," Starsky assured him.

The gentle jibe made Hutch laugh.

"Tell that to my subconscious," Hutch quipped. "The only way I could nap was to sneak over here, climb into your bed, and hug your pillow until I drifted off to sleep, Starsk."

"I think that means you're in love Hutch."

"I am," Hutch gloated. "Hopelessly… Helplessly… Totally… Completely… Madly… In Love… With you, Babe." Hutch said between kisses that were sweeter than honey.

"Then why do I still have my clothes on?"

"Because I haven't undressed you yet."

"And when do you plan on making me naked?" Starsky asked, toeing off his left sneaker and kicking it onto the floor.

"Hey! Stop that!" Hutch clamored; yanking Starsky's hand away from his red sock when Starsky bent his knee and began to pull the sock off his foot.

"That's a violation of lover's prerogative. If you continue I'll be forced to spank you," Hutch warned.

Laughing lustily, Starsky kicked off his other shoe and rolled his lover onto the mattress.

Unbuckling his belt, Starsky smiled wantonly and said, "That's an incentive, not a deterrent, Hutch."

"I know," Hutch murmured appreciatively, caressing the luscious globes of Starsky's ass as he savored his lovers Fuck Me smile.

"That's why I threatened you with that particular comeuppance."

Starsky chuckled. "Comeuppance?"

"Don't pretend you don't know what THAT means."

"Oh, I know what comeuppance means, Goldilocks. It's what you've been dreamin' about while you've been sleeping in my bed."

Hutch laughed lasciviously.

"Denying that would be a lie. I fell asleep in a wet spot," Hutch quipped.

"So I see," Starsky purred; savoring the sly smirk on Hutch's face because he was smirking too.

Changing his voice so he sounded like a little boy who's voice hadn't changed yet, Starsky pretended to be Baby Bear from Goldilocks & The Three Bears when he said, "Someone's been sleeping in my bed--and he left cum stains on my sheets!"

Chuckling, Hutch hugged his favorite teddy bear and said, "You are so obscene."

Then he gave Starsky a deep, appreciative, smoldering kiss that left no doubt in Starsky's mind that Hutch was completely turned on.

The huge lusty cock Starsky had captured in his hands was so hard and so swollen, Hutch's penis looked like it was going to spontaneously combust!

"Then arrest me," Starsky taunted Hutch brazenly as he tugged on the sea serpent that seemed to grow out of the body of his Viking pirate-prince like a strange one-eyed beast.

Teasing Hutch with a naughty kiss, Starsky said, "You know where I keep my handcuffs."

Starsky kept his handcuffs in the right inside pocket of his leather jacket because his jeans were so tight his own fingers had been known to get trapped in the pockets when he tried to jam anything bigger than a coin into them.

"But that's not what I want," Hutch purred as he pushed Starsky's favorite brown leather jacket off those muscular shoulders.

Starsky reluctantly released his lover's penis so Hutch could strip him, but he grabbed Hutch's cock again as soon as Hutch freed him from the constraints of the tight leather jacket he wore to hide his gun.

"If I am Goldilocks and YOU are The Big Bad Bear, then I am the one who is trespassing. YOU have to arrest ME," Hutch teased between flirtatious kisses. "Isn't that the way the story goes?"

"Sorta," Starsky chuckled. "Goldilocks did the Breaking & Entering in that story, but there was no Big Bad Bear in it, Hutch. You're getting the bears in that story mixed up with the Big Bad Wolf in Little Red Riding Hood."

"So?" Hutch teased with a devilish grin on his face. "I thought we were making up our own X-rated version of that fairy tale."

Exaggerating his Brooklyn accent until he sounded like a mobster from a Hollywood gangster flick, Starsky said, "Youse want me to put on my red hooded sweatshirt, Pally?"

Hutch laughed wantonly.

"Sure! Why not?"

Starsky had a wild imagination. Who knows what would happen when he pretended to be Not-So-Little-Red Riding Hood…

Laughing, Starsky got off the bed and peeled off his shoulder holster as he walked towards his bedroom closet. Hutch smiled wickedly and basked on the big bed as he watched the formidable muscles in Starsky's back ripple powerfully beneath the ubiquitous blue t-shirt Starsky was so fond of wearing.

Quiet as a prowling lion, Hutch glided off the bed and snuck up behind Starsky. Starsky heard him coming, but he pretended not to. Howling, Hutch attacked him, pushing him into the walk-in closet where he trapped Starsky against the back wall so he could lick-kiss that muscular back with very sensual ulterior motives.

Starsky's laughter quickly turned into a lusty groan.

"You have the back of an avenging angel, Starsk. I love the way your back muscles ripple," Hutch murmured dreamily as Starsky's body formed a spread-eagled X straddling the full-length mirror that was bolted to the wall at the back of his closet.

"I also love this sweet spot on the nape of your neck," Hutch babbled blissfully. Starsky felt like he was melting… Hutch kissed him there so erotically, Starsky felt like he was unraveling from within while those big, seductive hands languidly roamed his hairy chest. 

Basking in Hutch's possessive grasp, Starsky arched backwards until his curly head was writhing on Hutch's shoulder while those pearly white teeth nibbled on his earlobe and demanding fingers stropped his cock through the faded denim of his jeans.

"I love it when you come home all hot and horny," Hutch chuckled deviously.

"How could I not when I've got someone so glorious and greedy waiting for me?" Starsky gasped.

His smile as wicked as his thoughts, Hutch wrapped his hand around the python in Starsky's pants and said, "I need a fix, Starsky."

"Then suck me!" Starsky pleaded, desperate with desire.

"No," Hutch teased; his laughter rich and naughty with gilded lust.

"If I'm Red Riding Hood then you are The Big Blond Wolf. You gotta eat me, Hutch. That's the rules!"

"You're not wearing a red hooded sweatshirt, Starsk."

"That's because it's still on the hanger behind ya. Hand it to me and I'll put it on."

"Later…" Hutch purred. "Right now we're playing Goldilocks and the Brooklyn Badass."

Starsky smirked when Hutch used one of the many nicknames they'd earned over the years. The women that coveted them at Metro Precinct liked to call Hutch The Blond Dragon because of how he stormed and fumed so sexily. They'd nicknamed Starsky The Brooklyn Badass because of his accent and the way his bowed legs made his walk anything but ordinary.

If you crossed the stride of an Wild West gunfighter with the prowling gait of a tiger stalking prey in the jungle, you'd come close to describing the sexy way Starsky walked. Starsky didn't just walk--he had the sexiest If You're Looking For Trouble-You've Found It strut all his own. His menacing grace was both intimidating and compelling. The man could make you quake in your boots and cream your jeans at the same time.

Hutch had slowly become addicted to everything about Starsky from the moment they met on the shooting range at the Academy.

"In my version of the story," Hutch murmured provocatively--as he slowly unbuckled Starsky's belt and unzipped the jeans that unsnapped by themselves… "The Brooklyn Badass arrives at the house of The Three Bears and kicks their furry butts!" Hutch said. 

Starsky's chuckle-groan was music to Hutch's ears. (Clogged though they were.) 

Starsky's joy was always contagious. His partner's laughter made Hutch chuckle too. Unfortunately, Hutch was still congested, so his laughter was punctuated by an explosive sneeze.

"God Bless You," Starsky snickered when Hutch chuckled so hard he sneezed.

It never ceased to amaze Starsky how a guy with such a mellifluous speaking and singing voice could yell louder than a roaring lion and sneeze like a sonic boom. 

"Thanks," Hutch mumbled, blushing self-consciously.

"What?!" Starsky teased, yelling in his Old Deaf Man's voice as he cupped his ears. "Speak into the mirror, Hutch. I need to read the lips of your reflection. My ears are still ringing."

"Sorry…"

Hutchinson's self-conscious chortling quickly turned into a coughing jag. 

"That's okay," Starsky consoled his lover, as he gently patted Hutch on the back to break up some of the gunk in his lungs. "It's hard to be suave when you're full of snot."

Starsky's soothing hands helped him, but not in a way that lent itself to romance at the moment.

Embarrassed, Hutch dashed out of the closet coughing all the way to the bathroom, where he could blow his nose in private and return to their love game adorably red-faced and bashful. 

As soon as Hutch dashed out of the closet, Starsky locked the door behind him. Chuckling, Starsky put on the red hooded sweatshirt anyway as soon as he heard the water running in the bathroom sink. Hutch brushed his teeth and gargled before he came back to the closet to resume their love game. Expecting to open the door, get back in, and pick up right where they left off, but he couldn't!

"Hey!" Hutch objected, rattling the doorknob in mock indignation. 

Hutch had a nasty head cold, but raging testosterone is amazing stuff. He'd felt listless and addle-brained for the past three days, but now that he had an erection Hutch felt like he could leap over Starsky's unmade bed in a single bound!

Smiling as he chuckled deviously, Hutch caught on quick and pounded on the closet door.

"Let me in!" Hutch shouted.

"Not by the hairs on my chinny-chin-chin!" Starsky sing-songed in a silly voice like one of The Three Little Pigs.

When you were mixing metaphors--and fairy tales--what's one more?

Hutch laughed boisterously.

The smile on his face become even more devilish, Hutch said, "It's not the hairs on your chin I want to tickle."

Starsky unlocked the closet door quickly when he made THAT suggestive comment.

Hutch laughed when he saw Starsky wearing the red hooded sweatshirt with his jeans still unzipped. His hyper-aroused cock was protruding through the jagged mouth of his fly, the brass metal teeth of the zipper looking like they were about to feast on his lover's horny penis.

Giggling naughtily, Hutch ogled his gorgeous partner and said, "MY, that's a big penis you have there, Hood."

Laughing, Starsky's smirked and gave his silk-clad cock a salacious stroke. 

Starsky's cock was so hard and distended it looked like someone had shoved the horn of a unicorn colt into his black bikini briefs, Hutch marveled.

"The better to rob pretty maidens of their virtue and give handsome blond cops named Hutch ball shattering orgasms with, my dear."

"Braggart," Hutch teased. 

Grabbing one cheek of Starsky's ass with his right hand, Hutch shoved the fingers of his left hand into the hood raking them through plentiful dark curls while he kissed Starsky.

"Hell, just looking at you in that red sweat shirt could pop someone’s cherry, Starsk."

The lusty compliment made Starsky chuckle as they kissed.

He'd left the sweatshirt unzipped scant inches above his navel. Starsky looked so devilishly handsome when he wore red clothing Hutch couldn't wait to cork his impudent ass.

"I'm going to blow a ball if you don't quit doing that," Hutch warned him.

"I'm not doing anything," Starsky smirked between kisses.

"Yeah, right!" Hutch scoffed. "You're undulating in my arms and your body hair is tickling me, Starsk!"

The tantalizing sensation made Hutch feel like he was going to lose his mind because it was so maddeningly pleasurable.

The silky little curls that peppered Starsky's chest and torso were tickling the smooth skin that covered his own chest and torso. Hutch could feel every curling hair licking him like velvety tongues and he started undulating too.

Mesmerized by the dance of desire Starsky had initiated, Hutch kissed his way down to his partner's groin. Unzipping the sweatshirt on the way until he was on his knees before Starsky reverently peeling off tight jeans and warm black bikini briefs that felt like a wet dream in the making as he sensuously licked the smear of pre-cum off the onyx fabric.

"Ah, Hutch…" Starsky groaned, as he watched his blissed-out lover groove to the kinky vibes they were conjuring up with their love magic.

Tangling his fingers in the satin-splendor of Hutch's golden hair, Starsky wrapped his free hand around the metal rod that kept his clothes suspended on hangers in the closet. Doing that reminded him of a traumatic time in his life that their love for each other helped him endure too.

Because the metal rod in the closet reminded him of the parallel bars he had clung too so tenaciously while Hutch helped him learn how to walk again in that physical therapy room after Gunther’s hitman shot him.

Time stood still as Starsky watched in awed wonder when Hutch captured his cock with one hand and created a vortex of lust that enchanted them both when Ken avidly swirled that mesmerizing tongue round and round the throbbing crown of Starsky's wine-red cock.

"More!" Starsky pleaded, his voice so ragged he looked drunk with desire as Hutch drove him crazy with the tip of that voracious tongue.

Hutch smirked as he sensuously licked Starsky's cockslit. The salty musk flowed out of Starsky's throbbing cock like primordial sap; intoxicating him passionately as he savored his lover's essence.

Starsky was more than willing to give Hutch all he had, but Hutch only wanted a taste right now. He just wanted to do a line. A line of Starsky's cum drizzling over his tongue and down his throat was enough to get Ken Hutchinson jazzed!

Starsky wanted Hutch so bad and needed him so much, his cum oozed all over Hutch's hand like white honey. Hutch kept a firm rein on Starsky's cock with his right hand as he turned his partner around so that he and Starsky were both facing the mirror in the back of the closet again.

"Pull that hood back up Starsk." It had fallen off that cloud of chocolaty curls when Starsky's threw his head back in abject ecstasy while Hutch was teasing him so mercilessly with his tongue.

"Why?" Starsky gasped breathlessly.

"Because I'm going to ride you until you're red, Hood."

Starsky's laugh turned into a plaintive groan when Hutch impishly slapped him on the ass and said, "Assume the position!"

"Hey!” Starsky pretended to protest, “you're the one who broke into my apartment and masturbated in my bed, Goldilocks.”

"Mitigating circumstances," Hutch smirked as plundered the stash of sex toys Starsky had squirreled in his closet. Inside the pleasure chest, Hutch found several unopened tubes of lube.

Laughing wickedly, Hutch chose the one called Hot To Trot.

"Sadist," Starsky smirked.

"Smile when you say that, Sweet Cheeks."

Hutch was smirking too as he held Starsky's cock possessively in his right hand while he looped his long arm around Starsky's neck in a mock stranglehold. Teasing Starsky's lips open, Hutch watched Starsky use those beautiful white teeth to unscrew the cap of the lube.

The feral beauty of Starsky's rugged, sultry features awed Ken Hutchinson. Hutch felt like he'd captured a mythically wondrous creature in his arms. Sexy as a satyr, Starsky grinned at him, daring Hutch to claim what was rightfully his. 

"Is this what you want?" Starsky purred undulating his hips like a male stripper.

“Always,” Hutch confessed.

Starsky's breath was dragon-hot and raw with need as he splayed his hands against the wall above the rectangular mirror and spread his legs in a corresponding X; hips thrust backwards in Give Me All You Got! zeal.

"Sexy devil," Hutch murmured, giving his partner's luscious ass a playful smack as it tantalized him beneath the hem of the red sweatshirt. Starsky’s ass was as firm and ripe as a flesh-colored apple.

Dropping to his knees again, Hutch impishly nibbled on Starsky's buns.

That made Starsky chuckle.

When Hutch slowly parted the muscular cheeks of Starsky's ass, Dave tensed expectantly, because he knew what Hutch was going to do next.  
The tip of that infamous index finger was as wickedly wonderful as the tip of Hutch's tongue.

Tucking the little tube of lube into the dangling pocket of the open red sweatshirt when he was through, Hutch laughed and tickled Starsky's puckered anus with that finger. Then he capriciously peeled back one side of the red hood just enough to expose one curl-covered ear and whisper, "I love you,” as he stood up.

Starsky's heart soared when Hutch adoringly kissed the mole embedded in his left cheek. Then Hutch nosed the hood aside as they nuzzled, so he could kiss the tinier mole under his right eye. 

Hutch tantalized him with that mesmerizing finger until the most intimate part of Starsky’s body yielded blissfully to his lover.

Starsky was so overwhelmed by the tender sensations Hutch evoked, his rampaging libido made him babble, because he was delirious with desire.  
"You make me feel like a flower slowly opening in the morning sun.”

The compliment made Hutch's eyes sparkle like blue topaz.

Need more ravenous than hunger made Starsky acquiesce with a wanton sigh of abject surrender. He was putty in Hutch's hands, and Hutch knew it. Goldilocks had The Brooklyn Badass right where he wanted him and Hutch did not intend to let him go until he got what he wanted.

He wanted was to see Starsky's cum splattered all over the mirror at the back of the closet.

So Hutch teased Starsky into submission, until his fingers made Starsky whimper like a keening dog.

Spiraling his finger into Starsky's tight, luscious ass, Hutch chuckled as Starsky squirmed and reveled in rebellion. Instincts ordered him to resist the wanton invasion, but Starsky defiantly surrendered to his craving for the love only Hutch could give him.

Hutch wasn't the only one who needed a fix!

Starsky looked at Hutch's reflection in the mirror and said, "Give me some of that Blond Sugar!"

Laughing triumphantly, Hutch did, entering Starsky in giddy, wonderfully lurching thrusts, like a roller coaster slowly climbing that first big hill.

Hutch was huge and hard and reckless when he was aroused.

As soon as Hutch laced his fingers through his from behind, Starsky was flying!

Hutch thrust so deep and took him so high Starsky felt like a winged black horse soaring towards the night sky on a one-way trip to Mars!

Hutch could take him places inside himself that he had never been before. Places where moonlight became so bright it became sunlight that went nova and shattered into billions of sparkling shards that became distant stars.

That's what Hutch-induced orgasms were like. The pleasure was so wondrously relentless it made Starsky feel reborn. Sweat dripped off his curls and ran down his cheeks like tears.

Hutch stoked the fires of his passion like no one else could. 

While that big lusty cock cored his ass like an apple, that strong gentle hand stropped his naked cock until Starsky was in the throes of a sublime sexual seizure.

Whatever Hutch had it was gloriously contagious, because Starsky caught the same affliction. 

Love's raging fever boiled in his veins like lava. From balls to brain, from feet to cock--Starsky was tingling all over like a bottle of champagne being vigorously shaken. 

The pressure built up deliciously inside Starsky until he couldn't bear it one second longer. Starsky’s cock erupted like a geyser as he jubilantly thrashed in Hutch’s strong arms.

Shouting like a marauding pirate as he invaded Starsky’s writhing body, Hutch exploded inside of his lover like a rocket soaring into space.

Hutch had never felt so triumphant! Starsky's cum had gushed out of that pulsing cock with such force it splattered the walls and the floors too.

"Paybacks can be heavenly too," Hutch murmured as he surveyed the erotic damage. Smiling at Starsky's laughing reflection in the cum stained mirror, Hutch said, "Welcome home, Babe."

THE END


End file.
